Whispered Secrets
by The Better Side
Summary: A series of one shots written by yours truly surrounding the family we all know and love. Get ready for comedy, turmoil and the unexpected with the infamous, dysfunctional Briefs family.
1. Bold Words

Yeah so I don't really want to write Oneshot after Oneshot and keep starting new stories so I've decided to put them all in one. This here is going to be a multi-chapter fic of mini oneshots evolving around the Briefs family (because I'm quite sure all my oneshots are going to center around them).

**_WARNING_**: Extreme cussing.

V/T(Vegeta and Trunks)

Enjoy ^_^

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**Bold Words.**

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"Dad, could you pass the fucking syrup, please?"

Both Bulma and Vegeta whipped their heads up to stare at their nine year old child across from the breakfast table. He smiled and waited patiently for his request to be granted, obviously overlooking their baffled expressions.

"What did you just say?" His blue haired mother asked, straining to keep a pleasant tone through her clenched teeth.

Trunks, with a slightly bewildered expression, repeated his line. "I said could you pass the fucking syrup, please?" Except this time he pronounced each syllable slowly which only added to his mother's fury.

Vegeta stared at his son with a bemused smile, one eyebrow raised, trying his hardest not to burst out in laughter.

"Now Trunks, you know that's a bad word to use."

The little boy glanced at his mother, now completely confused. "What is? Peas? Please? Could?"

"The one before peas."

"Fucking?"

Vegeta let a snort of laughter out but was quickly hit on the shoulder by his wife and he shut up. She gave her son a sweet smile and said, almost patronizingly, "Yes, that word. I think it'll be best if you refrain from using that."

"Well why?"

"Because it's very disrespectful."

Trunks furrowed his eyebrows, pondering over that. "Well, can I say shit?"

"No! That's not a good word either!"

"Damn?"

"That's not any better-"

"Bitch?"

"Trunks-!"

"_Mother_fucker?"

Vegeta looked up from his plate to dare a glance at his wife and covered his face to conceal his chuckles. She was bright red, cheeks puffed out with her eyes wide in what could only be anger, shock and disbelief. "Where did you learn these words!?" She demanded, angrily.

Trunks sank back and looked down at his food. He picked up his fork and started poking his eggs with it.

"Your mother asked you a question, boy." His father muttered, deciding it was his turn to jump into the conversation. His line hadn't been terribly parental but it would get Bulma off his back.

Their purple haired son bit his lip and kept his gaze down. His parents exchanged a look.

"Trunks, what's the matter? Who taught you those words?" His mother asked in a much softer tone.

Then, very slowly and reluctantly, the boy glanced up at them, pouted his lips and pointed. And, surprisingly (or not) enough, his finger was aimed at his spiky haired father. "I hear dad use them a lot....so...I don't know, I thought they were okay." He met his dad's piercing eyes with his pleading ones. He hadn't _wanted_ to rat him out. It was just that pressure from his parents was the worst kind of pressure a nine year old child could have!

Bulma sighed and knew that her son's answer should have been obvious from the start. She got up from the table in a huff and made contact with her husband, sending him a death glare and mouthing the words, "You handle this since you _started_ it." Before leaving out of the kitchen.

Vegeta watched her retreating back with anger. On come on, he thought, it wasn't as if she never said words like that either! Turning back to his sulking son, he grimaced. Well, what was he suppose to say?

Trunks avoided eye contact with him and continued to poke at his food. By the way he sat hunched with a tense set of his mouth; Vegeta knew the boy was afraid or at least embarrassed. Afraid at what punishment he'd get and embarrassed that his new found vocabulary hadn't been as cool and clever as he had once thought.

Not only that but he had totally let down everyone. His mother was mad, his father was probably annoyed and what had the words accomplished for him? Not a thing! They hadn't even felt cool coming off of his tongue.

So he sat in silence, awaiting the inevitable berate from his mean tempered father.

"So you like learning new words, huh?"

Trunks looked up cautiously and was quite surprised at his father's nonchalant expression while he poured more syrup on his pancakes. He forked some into his mouth and stared at the purple haired boy.

"What?" He asked around his food. "Did you forget how to use them already or are you preparing to ambush me with one sentence filled with all of them?"

"Uh..."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and swallowed. "You're amateur at best. Probably because you lack motivation. Just like your mother. If you want to become good at something, you have to practice."

Now Trunks was severely confused. He wasn't sure what exactly he needed to practice more; using the words or learning new ones? "Practice?"

"That's what I said." He narrowed his eyes. "You think you're grown enough to cuss, do you boy?"

"I just wanted to be like you!" He sputtered out nervously, deducing that "cussing" meant using his new words.

Vegeta sat back and folded his arms across his chest. He didn't feel like acknowledging the boy's outburst for fear that he might show a side of him he didn't want anyone to see; Dedication and a fondness for his son. Feeling proud that, no matter what he did, Trunks still insisted on following in his footsteps. "Well, to be like me you have to be an adult, correct?"

"Yes." He agreed meekly.

"Good. And I only cuss when I'm angry."

Trunks blinked. "But I heard you call Goten's dad an asshole-"

"Kakarot _is_ an asshole." He hissed. "And you're bringing up irrelevant events. The point I'm trying to make is that adults use such words to express anger and so forth. As do I."

Trunks cocked his head to the side. "Okay..." It didn't make much sense. His father was _always_ anger or so it seemed.

"_So_," Vegeta continued, growing irritated from his son's obvious confusion. "Inserting the words in regular phrases isn't necessary."

"Are you saying that I can only use the words when I'm angry?" He asked, squinting one eye.

He shrugged. It wasn't as if he cared what the kid said. As long as he trained, had good health and learned to sleep without a disgusting night light, what did it matter? Besides, the little half Saiyan never got angry so he said, "Sure. Do that."

"But I thought mom said they were disrespectful."

"It depends but if you use them correctly, they won't be." He then waved it off and was happy to get back to his breakfast that was rapidly turning cold while Trunks, feeling much better, ate his as well. Surprisingly, he understood what his father was trying to say.

When Bulma came down a few minutes later, father and son were still sitting in their same spots, finishing off the last bits of food that remained. She smiled at them, kissed her son on top of his head and wrapped her arms around her husband who grunted his disapproval.

"He looks happier now." She whispered in his ear, motioning towards their son who was making machine gun sounds. "Did you clear it up?"

Vegeta glanced up at her anticipating face and said distractedly, "Of course. All taken care of."

They turned to stare at their son as he hopped down off of his chair and began to reach for his empty plate to place it in the sink. As he moved to do so however, he hit his toe on the table and let out a 'Oof!" before grabbing the offended toe and screaming at the top of his lungs,

"FUCKING BITCH ASSHOLE SLUT ASS HOE BASTARD MOTHERFUCKER GODDAMN IT TO HELL SHITTY COCK PRICK CUNT!" _As long as I don't direct the cussing towards anyone, it'll be okay. That's what dad meant._

There was silence while Vegeta and Bulma stared wide eyed and open mouthed at their son as he hopped around with a furious look on his baby face.

After the initial shock passed, Vegeta raised both eyebrows and let his son's random string of profanities sink in before turning to his enraged wife and saying, quite calmly,

"I'm quite impressed. I think that was thirteen or so in one sentence. He's definitely getting better."

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Totally wrote just for humor, haha.

Let me know what you think. Review. And I suppsoe you can expect another chapter when another oneshot idea hits me but until then, see ya! ^_^


	2. The Dreaded Pills

AN: These oneshots won't feature on just ONE time. As in; the ages of the Briefs will change with each one or so. Just to let you know. And wow, I hadn't expected another idea so soon :D hehe.

B/B (Bulma/Bulla)

NOW! Onward to;;

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The Dreaded Pills.

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"Bulla!"

The deep bellow filtered through the unmistakable voice of the flame haired, prince of Saiyans Vegeta as he came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded over his chest, eyes narrowed dangerously with a deep scowl on his face. Loud music boomed from upstairs, shaking the foundation of the house, causing items hanging on various walls to shake violently.

He angrily stomped up the stairs, following the sound of the heavy rap music, barged into a room at the end of the hall and glared around, nostrils flaring. He swung the door back with so much force, it left a dent in the wall; an indication of his extreme fury.

The inside of the room was painted in various colors, from purple and pink to black and red yet all the colors seemed to fade in and match perfectly.

A teenager sat sitting on the bed, that looked like it could hold about thirty, with her head bobbing up and down, going with the beat, sending her long blue curls spiraling every which way while her eyes were squeezed shut, obviously enjoying herself.

This was probably why her eyes snapped open and a frown creased her brow when the stereo was shut off.

"Hey, w-" She stopped in mid sentence however when she noticed the figure standing hands on hips by her desk. She rolled her eyes beforehand and pushed herself up into a sitting position. "What is it dad?"

Vegeta's face was red and his hands were clenched and if you looked close enough, you'd probably be able to see steam hissing out of his ears. "How many times have I told you-?"

"-Not to play my music loud." Bulla finished for him with a sigh. "It was barely in earshot."

His eyes widened. "It shook the house!" He breathed in and out to calm himself. "Just keep it dow-"

"Yeah okay, I get it. Bye now." She said flatly, waving him off, her eyes focusing on a magazine she picked up from her desk.

Vegeta furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance. "Wh-"

"DAD!" Before he knew it, he was being pushed out of her room and stood staring back at her. "I said BYE!" Then the door closed shut and the music started up again in the same magnitude of volume.

The short man growled, grinded his teeth, turned on his heel and marched back downstairs. He walked into the kitchen and spotted his wife sipping her drink from a mug and reading a magazine. _Like mother like daughter..._

Bulma glanced up when she felt a shadow descend over her and blinked up at her husband.

"I'm going to kill your daughter."

The blue haired woman only laughed at the threat and glanced back down. "What did she do this time?"

He slumped into a chair across from her and swung his feet onto the table, leaning back. "First off, she's blasting her disgusting music at an unreasonably high volume."

"I thought you went and told her to turn it down." Bulma said distractedly, turning a page.

"I did." Vegeta sneered. "But you can see what good that did." He waved upwards to indicate the music blaring loud in the background."So that brings me to my second point; she completely disobeyed my commands AND shoved me out of her room!"

"Something must be bothering her."

"I have no time to hear her whine about how her 'supposed to be friend' bought the same exact purse as her and now she looks _'so uncool'_." He sneered and stood up. "I'm going to go teach her what Saiyans do to disobedient children."

Bulma caught the evil glint in his eye, jumped across the table and grabbed his arm. "Wait! Vegeta, I'll talk to her! She's just in that awkward stage of adolescence. Just let me speak to her. "

Vegeta looked down at the hand on his forearm and the topic of his kin instantly vanished. "I'm fairly impressed you can still hop around like that."

She straightened up and grinned marvelously. "You aren't the only one who works out." She winked.

He gave her a once over with a mischievous smirk and pulled her close. "I suggest you do another _rigorous_ workout session. It's guaranteed to leave you..." His lips pressed against her neck. "Satisfied."

Bulma shook with anticipation of the request, leaned in to him and would have succumb to his touch if not for the relentless bass echoing from above. She reluctantly put her hands on his chest, pushed him back and smiled sweetly. "_After_ I talk to Bulla."

The annoyance and anger was evident on the prince's face as he let her go and watched her sprint off and take the stairs two at a time. "I can still kill her if you want!" He called up to her."I know the perfect place to hide the body!"

His wife turned to give him an unimpressed and scornful look before continuing up the steps and heading towards her daughter's room. Bulma opened the door cautiously and peeked in. She spotted her child on the computer, her back to Bulma so she walked in and clicked off the stereo.

Bulla spun around in her swivel chair and a look of pure shock and irritation lit up the girl's flawless face. The teenage replica of Bulma was obviously surprised to see that it was her mother instead of her father and said in a high squeak, "Mom! What's the deal!?"

"Didn't your father already tell you to turn the music down?" She asked with a calm expression, walking over to stand before the sitting girl.

"Yeah well, I didn't feel like it." She shrugged.

Bulma raised her eyebrows. "Wow. Defying your father now, huh? That's a dangerous move."

"I'm not afraid of dad." The girl pouted, folded her arms across her chest and frowning in a very Vegeta-like manner. Her mother smiled and sat down on her bed, patting the spot next to her. Grudgingly, the girl got up and sat in the designated seat, crossing her legs.

"Alright so what's up?"

"What do you mean?" Came her muttered response.

"You're being awfully childish don't you think?"

Bulla swung her gaze on her mother with flashing blue eyes. "NO I'm not! Dad's the childish one!"

Bulma cocked her head to the side. "Sweetie, what's bothering you?"

"DAD IS!" The blue haired sixteen year old exploded, throwing her hands in the air. "Do you know what he did to Kain!? First he scared him to death, telling him that if he ever hurt me, he'd kill me and that he knew where to hide the body!"

The elder woman couldn't help but giggle at the statement and her husband's repetitiveness and caught a horrified look from her daughter. "Mother, that isn't funny!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Bulma straightened and patted her kid's knee with a sympathetic smile. "So, what? You're mad at your father for threatening your boyfriend? Sweetie, sorry to say it but you should have saw it coming. All fathers are protective of their daughters and your father....more so."

Why, when Bulla had first introduced Kain, Vegeta had instantly thrown the boy out. Of a window. Kain had suffered a broken leg from the second story fall. It was a beyond them all of why he had chosen to remain with Bulla after it (The girl claimed it was because he loved her dearly). But he had and his relationship with her father had gotten considerably better. Somewhat.

"Well...whatever."

Bulma saw the pout on her teenage girl's face and deduced there was more to the story. "Something else is bothering you." It was more of a statement then a question.

Bulla turned slowly to look in her mother's eyes and whispered, "Mom, I want to have sex."

The shock and awe that crossed across the Capsule Corporation's owner was palpable. Her eyebrows shot up, her face paled and her mouth hung open in animated suspension. One blue eye twitched spasmodically and there was a long silence.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah me and Kain decided on it a few days ago so that's why I got so upset when dad threatened him because it kind of turned Kain off or whatever. He's really scared that dad will catch him but I told him it'd be okay because well.....you'd help me get birth control pills?" She sheepishly looked away and started fiddling with her fingers.

But Bulma was still reeling and the initial shock hadn't worn off yet. "What!?"

"Mom, you gotta trust me! I think I'm really ready to do this! And I promise, I'll be extra careful! Kain is going to have a checkup and he's going to use a condom too so you know, the risk of pregnancy will be close to nonexistent and there's really no risk of me hurting him is it? I know how to handle myself and stuff so is it okay?......Mom?" Bulla's face contorted into concern after her rapid speech at her mother's face that hadn't moved from it's baffled state.

Bulma snapped from the daze and turned to look down at her daughter with scrunched up eyebrows. "..You and Kain DECIDED!?"

"Wha-Well, yeah! Together!"

She started shaking her head. " No, No I don't think this is a good idea Bul-"

"Come on mom! I knew you'd act this way!" Bulla screeched in exasperation.

"You're only sixteen!"

"No! I'm _already_ sixteen. When did you first lose your virginity!?"

"Wel-It-That's completely off subject! We're talking about _you _and I don't think you're mature enough yet."

"I can't believe you're trying to tell me how _mature I am_!" She spun to shoot her mom a furious look. "When you and dad argue over the most immature things!

Anger simmered below Bulma's calm facade and she frowned. "Bulla, this has nothing to do with your father and I and turning this around isn't going to help. I still stand firm of my belief so no, I'm not taking you to get birth control pills."

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE IMPOSSIBLE!" The girl cried, jumping off the bed.

Bulma sighed. She hadn't expected her daughter to react this way or to be even thinking like this. One side of her wanted to be proud; happy that she at least came to ask her about it first but then the other side told her to be scared; she didn't want to let her girl go. And, if Bulma consented, then she was quite sure that this would be the moment that called for letting go of her little girl.

_No, she wasn't little anymore, was she? She was growing up. She was sixteen. She had a boyfriend. She confided in you._

Biting her lip, the woman stood up and walked over to the angry girl. Sighing deeply, she put her arm around Bulla and muttered, "If you're deadly serious about this and I mean deadly then maybe..." She glanced down at her blue haired child who had looked up in surprise, oncoming tears sparklingly in her eyes. ".._MAYBE_, I'll take you to a doctor and we can see about getting you those pills."

"You mean it!?"

The woman nodded and smiled lightly. "Yes. I realized that you're right, you are growing up and I'm glad you came to me about this. That action made me take back my last comment about you being immature which I'm very sorry about. Actually, now I think you're beyond ready." _And it was true_, Bulma thought, _she hadn't done anything reckless yet. That had to count for something at least. "_I want you to know I'll always be here for you sweetie and, even if I don't agree all the time, I'll support your decisions."

A gracious grin lit up Bulla's face and she wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. "OH thank you, thank you, thank you so much mom! I love you so much, thank you!" She kissed her cheek and said, "I'll call Kain and tell him right now!"

Bulma looked appalled at the statement but couldn't get words out in time before the girl pushed her out the door with another smile and more 'thank you's' and locked the door.

She sighed again and raggedly made her way downstairs. Upon entering the kitchen, she sat down heavily in a chair and stood staring down at the table, her eyes glazed.

Vegeta was waiting or her. He had turned at her entrance and watched with a raised eyebrow at her expression. "What was the matter with her?" He finally asked.

Bulma looked up at him and smiled shakily. "Oh you know; girl problems."

He rolled his eyes as if he knew so and then stood up. "That took longer then I expected. What problem was it? Had someone wore the same shirt as her?" He snorted and pulled out a glass of juice and got down a cup. Behind his indifferent impression, one could see that deep down he did care about the wellbeing of his daughter.

"She was pretty angry about you threatening Kain." She watched her husband smirk. "But that wasn't the _best part_."

"Oh?" He poured his drink and lifted it to his lips. "What was?"

Bulma grinned and said (if only to wipe off his smug expression) with a hint of sarcasm in a flat voice, "Your daughter wants to have sex."

Upstairs, in her multicolored room, with the phone cord wrapped around her finger, Bulla heard a glass shatter.

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Poor Veggie and Bulma.

BTW: Kain was just used because of the circumstance. I don't think I'll use him again but if so, he'll be in later chapters, haha.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated! ^_^


	3. My Family

I'm going to put the narrator roughly at....five or six years old. BTW, This is probably my shortest one!

_Enjoy;;_

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**My Family.**

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Sometimes, I think my family is really weird.

And not cool-weird but _weird-weird. _A lot of the things they do don't make sense to me.

Like my big brother. He likes to..._kiss_ girls. Yucky, right!? I know! Doesn't he know about cooties? He even leaves _me_ to go kiss girls! Playing with me would be funner! But I guess he doesn't know. Sometimes, I want to tell him but he doesn't like when I go into his room.

Oh yeah, he does some _weird_ things in his room too. One time I walked in and he had his pants off with a magazine in his hands! But I couldn't ask him why he was making weird noises or what the thingy hanging out of his pants was 'cause he pushed me out real fast. He looked nervous too so I didn't ask any one about it 'cause I thought he'd get in trouble.

Kissing girls and sitting in his room with his pants off. My brother is _SUPER_ weird.

One time he came home real late with Uncle Goten and his breath was stinky. I tried to ask him what was wrong but all he did was mumble and then throw up. Ew! My mommy took me to my room so I didn't get to see whatever happened to him (I _never_ get to see _anything_) but I heard my mommy yelling a lot. She said words that I didn't know like...alcohol or something and irresp-aire-something with sponsible at the end, I remember.

That's the weird thing about my mommy. She always uses _big_ words with a gazillion letters. I use to think spelling my name was hard but some of the things she says are _way_ harder. She's really cool when she teaches me stuff though. Like how to ride a bike or how to cook toast. I like when she hugs me too 'cause I like the smell of her. She's so pretty and I want to be just like her when I grow up. That's why I smile real big when people tell me I look like her.

But I never get why she always takes me out of the room when stuff happens. It's like she doesn't want me to see her mad or something. Too bad that I already have. I sneak downstairs when she yells at my daddy or brother sometimes and she looks _scar-ray_! I do it real quiet and ninja like so no one knows I'm there except my daddy sometimes.

My daddy's probably the weirdest of them all. He _always _knows exactly where I am and what I'm doing. It's freaky sometimes. Like one time, I tried to sneak a cookie before dinner and he caught me. I was gonna cry 'cause I knew that he got nicer when I cried but I didn't even have to 'cause he let me have it anyway.

That's how my daddy is. He can be really weird but he can be ultra, mega cool too. I always have the most fun with him 'cause he lets me get away with anything. Like letting me stay up late or eating sweets. And he _likes_ to play with me. Well, I think he does. Sometimes I see his eye twitching and stuff when we play with my Barbie dolls but then he says something funny and I know he likes it. And, he didn't tell mommy that I was the one who broke all her pretty vases. He said he did it.

But he still yells at my mommy a lot and she yells back. I don't like when they do that 'cause they're suppose to like each other and they don't act like it when they yell. At night, I curl up under my bed when they do. It scared me a lot the first time I heard them.

That's when my_ brother_ gets really cool. He comes into my room and sleeps with me until they get quiet. He tells me funny stories of people with tails and princes and heroes and bad guys. But the bad guys always lose 'cause that's how it's suppose to be. Then he tells me that one day I'll understand it all. I just tell him he's weird when I don't really think he is.

Then the next day my family is back to normal. My brother goes to play with Uncle Goten instead of me, my mommy smiles and hugs me whenever I spell a word right and my daddy lets me play with his hair while I sit on his back and he does pushups.

No one talks about the yelling or any bad things that happened and my brother acts likes he doesn't really like spending time with me. So they just all go back to being weird.

But the funny thing is, I like it. 'Cause they're _my_ family. And no matter what, I'll always love them.

Hehe, even if they're _really_ weird!

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Ah, a different kind of fic for me. Bah. Hope you liked. I'm sure you know who's talking bit if not then its; BULLA/BRA. R&R! Thanks.


	4. Hide and Seek

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**Hide and Seek**

* * *

"Trunks-"

_SPLASH. SPOOLSH._

"Sweetie-"

_SLOSH. SPOOSH._

"TRUNKS! Stop it!"

A giggle escaped from the lavender haired five year old's mouth while he completely ignored his mother's demand and kept splashing about in the ceramic blue bathtub she had gotten built for him in his bathroom connected to his spacious bedroom. History had told his parents to never leave their son in charge of washing himself for the simple fact that whenever he got into a tub; he tried to get as much water as possible on the floor. Bulma would only hope that when he got older, he'd stop.

But at the moment, he wasn't.

Bulma, with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, the front of her shirt damp, stood up stiffly and marched out leaving the little boy flailing his limbs happily and squealing.

She stalked to her bedroom, threw the door open so that it smashed into the wall and flicked the light up. The commotion of her entrance stirred her flame haired husband who was, surprisingly, already in bed. He rolled over, sat up and stared at her in annoyance.

Her eyebrows rose. "You're sleeping? Now?" It was a rare sight to see him in bed before either her or Trunks.

Vegeta glanced lazily at the clock. "It's midnight."

She just stared at him until he confessed, "I blew a hole in that blasted machinery again." Then he laid back down and pulled the covers over himself. Bulma smirked; knowing there had been a logical, Vegeta-like reason for his sudden appearance and snatched the covers off of him.

"Your son needs a bath."

He blinked up at her for a beat. "So wash him."

Bulma pointed stiff armed at their bedroom door. "No, _you_ wash him. He won't sit still for a minute and I want to smack him! Oh jeez, did that sound horrible?"

"Not at all." Vegeta snatched the covers back. "Smack him around for all I care. It'll toughen him up."

She sighed. "I'm not hitting my little boy." She folded her arms across her chest and glared down at him. "But I'm tired of dealing with him. It's the same thing every night. It's your turn. He won't listen to me."

"What makes you think the brat will listen to me?" He asked tiredly, staring up at her through slitted eyes. Although he knew it could be fatal to ignore the woman when she fumed and ranted about their son, he couldn't help but lock his eyes on her chest. Her shirt was wet and clinging to her skin which only exposed her pale breast through the thin fabric.

"VEGETA! My face is up here!"

He tore his gaze away from her body and reluctantly met her flashing blue eyes. Suddenly, the covers were snatched off again.

"Now, like I was saying, he'll listen to you because you're his father and he looks up to you. Now GO!"

Knowing he wouldn't get to sleep until his son was taken care of, he got up grumbling and stomped out of the bedroom in only his boxers, leaving his wife beaming.

Trunks was still sitting in the tub when Vegeta entered, making airplane sounds and playing with his toys floating on top of the water. He looked down and grimaced at all the liquid that had been splattered on the floor, wetting the mat.

"Boy."

The child froze instantly and turned to give his father a wide eyed look, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He blinked, cocked his head to the side and then broke out in a grin. "DAD!"

Vegeta' face softened for a moment before he frowned. "You've been giving your mother a hard time." Not a question, a statement.

But Trunks only blinked as if he had no idea who his mother was and instantly, his five year old attention span failed him and he went back to playing with his toys and splashing water about.

His father growled. "Stop making a mess!" He instructed sternly before walking over and leaning down in front of the tub. He was surprised when a slab of water hit his face and rolled down to his chin.

His son only laughed at the display but never ceased moving his arms.

Vegeta wiped if off angrily and narrowed his eyes. Someone needed a lesson in discipline. Luckily, his dad was far too tired to teach him one now. He grabbed the boy by his head, who only laughed, and lifted him out, unplugging the drain so the water could disappear down it. In his opinion, the boy was clean. Or, he_ looked_ clean at least.

After helping him into his pajamas and making sure he brushed his teeth, Vegeta dropped him onto the bed and watched him roll around on it.

"Go to bed." He instructed before turning to walk out.

Trunks stopped and looked up. "But _dad_, I'm not tired."

"Go to bed anyway." He flicked the light off and started down the hallway to his room. But suddenly, something flashed into view and Vegeta furrowed his eyebrows and came to a halt, looking down at his son in his pajamas, beaming back up at him. The short man turned around, measured the distance from his standing point to his son's bedroom, guessed that it had taken Trunks only a mere few seconds to appear and although he was irritated at his disobedience, he was fairly impressed at his speed.

"You wanna train dad!?"

Now who in there right mind ever sound this event coming? How ironic was it that _Trunks_ wanted to train but_ Vegeta_ would rather have been asleep. But don't get him wrong, he would have easily dragged his son into the GR but it was off limits until someone repaired it.

"No. Go. To. Bed."

Trunks was obviously baffled that his father turned down the offer and tried again. "Wanna play a game!?"

"Boy, it is midnight! If you don't go to bed, I'll knock you unconscious and throw you in your room!" And he was quite capable of doing such a deed.

But the threat only excited the little boy who, in Vegeta's opinion, was way more hyper than he usually was. The little half Saiyan's feet were pumping, his arms were shaking and his mouth was open in a wide grin. For a second, Vegeta almost raised his hand and knocked him out as he had said but then stopped and a smirk graced his features.

"Fine. Lets play a game."

Trunks' eyes lit up.

"Hide and seek." The man remembered vaguely that his wife had taught their son and Goku's son, Goten, this a while ago. To Vegeta, it was a hilariously easily and useless game but it would help him out tonight. "You hide and I'll seek. Now remember Trunks, be deadly silent. You wouldn't want to give your position away to your enemy."

The boy nodded vigorously and was gone in a flash, zipping down the banister and taking off somewhere below. Vegeta's smirk faded and he pinpointed his son's whereabouts instantly; He was hiding under the sink.

But instead of going after him, Vegeta went into his bedroom, noticed that the lights were off and that Bulma was already in bed, slid into his side and closed his eyes.

Bulma stirred beside him and yawned, coming awake. "Have a hard time with him?"

Vegeta smirked in the dark. "Not at all."

An hour later, down in the kitchen, squeezed under the sink between pipes and cleaning products, Trunks thought with a devilish grin,

_Man I must be hiding good because dad _STILL_ can't find me._

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Thanks for reading. ^_^


	5. Rainy Day

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**Rainy Day**

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It's quite aggravating sometimes when the weather conflicts with someone's attitude. A sunny day outside could be contrasting to a horrible murder taking place down below. Or a drizzling, miserable day could be seen as something much better to a mother who just received word that she's pregnant after trying for weeks.

However, that wasn't the case for one family. Their mood reflected the weather exactly; a downpour of gray rain with murky skies and chances of a severe thunderstorm.

And as lightning flashed through the windows of Capsule Corporation, Bulma sat in the kitchen; face glazed, expression calm, hands folded in her lap, eyes forward. She had been sitting there like that for more then a few hours, seemingly staring off into space, dressed in all black. Although she hadn't moved an inch, she still saw the figure in her peripheral vision and called softly, "Vegeta?"

The man came out of the shadows and crossed to stand in the dimly lit kitchen, thunder rolling off the air outside. The house was deadly quiet and eerie making him seem almost ominous in his dark clothes. His face was placid and he simply stared at his wife who hadn't even turned to look at him.

"Is there something you wanted?" Bulma asked, eyes unblinking. Her voice was soft and almost sympathetic as if she sensed that her husband was distressed and she couldn't help. And she couldn't. Not now. She had been strong for her kids, for her mother and so she considered this her time to grieve. She was sorry if the man was feeling ignored but she couldn't take care of everyone all the time.

He spoke quietly, "Are you coming to bed?"

His tone shook her up enough to make her drag her eyes to stare into his. He flinched slightly at how soulless her blue eyes looked in their sockets. "I'll be there in a minute."

He nodded slowly but made no move to leave. He just simply stood there. There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other before Bulma broke gaze and continued to stare aimlessly into the darkness of her home once more. Vegeta suddenly felt useless and angry. He had never been good at dealing with things like this. He didn't know how to comfort her but damn it, he wanted to. He wanted to show her that he cared about how she felt.

He just didn't know how to go about it and he wasn't sure that anything he said could make her feel better anyway.

She had looked so strong, so composed at the funeral. She hadn't shed a tear although everyone else had, excluding Vegeta of course. He hadn't been sad about it really...more so, he had been disappointed. And, even though him and the man weren't always on the best terms, he wouldn't have placed death upon him.

Vegeta's concern only went out for Bulma. He considered it strange the way she acted earlier and wondered what she was feeling. He hadn't had a chance to speak to her and if he had, he didn't think he _would_ have for the simple fact that he feared he would say the wrong words. She never tried to keep up a facade to please anyone in the past and he wondered why she had started on this dark day.

"How are the kids?"

Her sudden question caught him off guard and Vegeta slightly raised his eyebrows. "They're fine. Both asleep."

Bulma smiled but it didn't look happy. It looked fake and shaky. "That's good." She whispered. "That's very good."

He was silent.

Her hands tightened in her lap. "Maybe we can take a...trip tomorrow." She turned to look at her husband once more, her expression revealing only indifferent contentment. "Take them to a fair or an amusement park. Wouldn't that be fun?"

Vegeta's mouth twitched at the idea. And, on any other day, at any of time, in any other atmosphere, he would have viciously disagreed and turned the offer down haughtily. But now he uttered, "If you'd like."

Bulma smiled. "I would like that very much."

Then she stood up. He watched in curiosity as she turned around slowly, walked to the sink and started to unconsciously wash the plates that were piled in it. The display confused and worried him. Everything she had done today had seemed to have that effect. She just wasn't making sense. Something was definitely wrong with her and, despite the obvious, Vegeta couldn't pinpoint what.

He didn't know how to find out either. Although she had put up a steel barrier that seemingly kept her calm and indifferent, she still seemed so fragile to him. As if the slightest outspoken word or haphazard touch would break her into a million pieces.

A shatter erupted into the gloomy silence, echoing off of the thunder booming and Vegeta broke from his thoughts to glance at her. He narrowed his eyes as he took in the smashed plate lying on the tiled floor before the blue haired woman's feet. He looked upwards at her face and, right then and there, the answer to his questions hit him faster then a ki ball to the stomach.

Bulma's eyes were squeezed shut, large tears running down her face. Her hands were clenched, her feet were spread apart and she fell to her knees as her shoulders sagged pitifully. At first sight, you'd guess she was having a break down.

And your guess would be correct.

Vegeta wasn't even aware he had moved until he heard Bulma sob mournfully into the front of his shirt, shaking with each breath, holding onto him while he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to his chest.

"I tried." She whispered in a cry-mutter that was almost inaudible. "I tried _so hard_ Vegeta-I-" Her voice caught. "I didn't want...-I-" She pushed back to look into his eyes and he felt his heart break at her disheveled, red face. "I wanted to be the strong one. For everyone. For my mom, for my children, for my friends, for _you_." More tears fell onto her shirt. "Because if I hadn't been...no one else would."

He knew. He understood what she meant and felt all the more guilty for it. Everyone had leaned on Bulma for support in this trying time. Everyone had cried on _her_ shoulder, been comforted by _her_ words.

But who did she have to lean on?

"You don't have to be strong for me." Vegeta told her as she burrowed her head back into his shirt. And it was true. All she had to do was let it all out, hold nothing back, lay her burdens on him and he'd gladly accept all the baggage. If only for her.

So he stood there, crouched down, his wife crying and heaving into his shirt with his arms around her for support. He stayed with her until she calmed, wiped her tears away and whispered she wanted to go to bed. He helped her to the bedroom, watched her crawl onto it and collapse almost miserably. He slid in next to her and obliged to her wishes when she asked him to hold her. He listened to her mutter to him about how much she missed her father and how she wished he was still with them.

Then she cried herself to sleep in his arms.

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Not really a happy ending but it was alright...right? ^_^ Hope you liked.


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